


Fog

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: 1970's or 80's tokyo, Alternate Universe - Noir, Detective Noir, Graphic Crime Scenes, M/M, i don't know anything about noir or 80's tokyo so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 04:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4087831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the midst of a series of gruesome murders in the city, Ginoza goes missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fog

**Author's Note:**

> Don't know much about noir. Don't know much about writing mysteries. This isn't really a mystery, anyway. Know slightly more about detectives. Anyway, let's say this is set in Tokyo in the 70's or 80's. The message on the wall at the beginning is a quote from 1984 by George Orwell.

“Ginoza, come in.” 

Over the radio, static. Kougami grips the steering wheel of the police car and presses down on the accelerator. 

“Ginoza, come in!” 

“Kougami,” Akane says from the passenger seat. “I'm sure it's fine. I'm sure he's just out of range. These radios don't always work.” She's always full of hope, optimism, but now even she sounds like she's trying a bit too hard to convince herself that what she's saying is true. 

“He wouldn't have called for backup if he was fine,” Kougami growls. 

The car skids to a stop in front of a skeletal housing block. The bad part of town. 

Kougami rushes out of the car and down the alleyway between two buildings. Akane runs after him. He expects to spend hours combing the place, looking for Ginoza and hoping not to find a body. 

He doesn't have to search far. He rounds another corner and stops. There's a dead-end, but that's not why he isn't running anymore. 

Akane moves forward, bends down to pick up the two items left on the pavement: Ginoza's black coat, torn, and his necktie. Shredded. 

“Akane,” Kougami says. 

She looks up at him. And he stares straight ahead. She turns. 

On the wall, the dead-end, is a message: “We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness.” 

The letters run down the wall like watercolor paint, red. 

*

“Why on earth would you want to be a police officer?” 

Ginoza looks like he has an answer. Kougami knows he has an answer. Ginoza doesn't do things for no reason. 

But Ginoza only shrugs. 

Kougami wants to call bullshit. But before he can, Ginoza fires the question back at him. “What about you, Kougami?” 

“I think I'd enjoy being a detective,” Kougami tells him. 

Ginoza scoffs. “There's nothing enjoyable about being a detective.” 

*

There's a cigarette burning in an ashtray like incense and the sounds of typing take the place of the talking that usually fills headquarters. Tonight, everyone is silent. 

Kougami stares at the photograph of the words on the wall. The photograph is black-and-white, and he can pretend that those words were never red, were never written in what definitely wasn't paint. 

A series of murders had taken place in the city over the past few months, grotesque murders with messages written in blood at the crime scenes, quotes from old science fiction novels. It had their division working long hours, sleepless nights, until the case became their lives. 

But in the rest of the city, life went on. 

Ginoza had gone to answer a call about a noise disturbance, and he'd gone alone because no manpower could be spared from the case. He'd volunteered because he and Kougami had gotten into an argument. Kougami insisted that the murders in the city were connected to a string of murders a year ago, in which they'd lost a detective named Sasayama. Ginoza thought the two were unrelated, and he was tired of hearing about Kougami's theories. So he'd gone to answer this call to clear his mind. 

“From now on, we all take a partner with us, no matter how small the problem seems to be,” Akane had said when they got back to headquarters. 

Sasayama had been disfigured when they found him. His legs had both been broken, had been placed at an unnatural angle. His insides had been ripped out and splayed around his body. An arc of blood had decorated the wall behind him, and his eyes were wide open. 

“Ginoza is probably dead,” Kougami mutters. 

“Don't say that.” 

He jumps—he hadn't realize that Akane had come up behind him. She places a steaming cup of black coffee on his desk and sits down next to him. 

“Whoever is doing this didn't kill Sasayama right away,” Akane says. She wasn't part of the department when Sasayama was killed. Kougami envies the ease with which she can talk about him. “We still have time.” 

“This guy always has a message for us,” Kougami says. “The people he's killed seem unrelated. Except for Sasayama and Ginoza.”

“Ginoza isn't dead.” 

“If I were just looking at those two,” Kougami continues, “and the quotes, I'd say that he has something against the government. Or perhaps just the police force. The justice system? Maybe the others don't matter.” 

“They matter,” Akane says, quietly. 

“I don't mean it like that,” Kougami tells her. “I mean, they weren't killed because they were important to this guy. They were killed because he wanted to get our attention, but he didn't want to kill anyone important to the government because if he did, he'd be in more danger of being arrested. He wants to get a point across. He's playing a game.” 

“What kind of game?” Akane asks. 

“A game with us,” Kougami says. “We've been playing into his hands. He's using us as pawns.” 

“But why?” 

Kougami stubs out his cigarette. “I don't know. He wants something that only we can give him. But it's something we don't want to give him.” 

“Ginoza works closely with the Chief,” Akane murmurs. 

Kougami watches her. “You really think he's still alive.” 

“Of course. Don't you?” 

*

“Why did you join the police?” Chief Kasei's eyes are sharp, and Kougami shifts next to Ginoza even though he's not the one being questioned. 

“My father was a detective.” 

“Ah, yes, Detective Masaoka. He worked under me for some time.” 

“Oh.” Ginoza's eyes widen, slightly. 

“Officer Ginoza, please make sure you don't make the same mistakes as your father.” 

“I won't.” 

Kougami wonders if he imagines the slight flinch, but what he doesn't imagine is the quiet conviction in Ginoza's words. 

Ginoza has always been a bit of a puzzle to Kougami, but another piece has been slotted in. 

*

When Kougami thinks back to when he and Ginoza were first appointed to the city police force, he remembers this conversation. It's always struck him as odd, because Ginoza never talked about his father. Kougami had always been under the impression that Ginoza didn't even like his father. But apparently, he'd become a detective because his father had been one. 

Now that Ginoza is missing, the conversation keeps playing in Kougami's mind, but he's not sure why he's stuck on it. 

“I think whoever this criminal is,” Akane says, “they want us to investigate ourselves.” 

Kougami smiles. Akane is smart. Now that she's said it, the crimes begin to make more sense. 

“The quotes,” Akane continues, looking at the detectives gathered around the table, “the kidnapping of two of our detectives. They want us to feel powerless. But at the same time, they want us to start questioning our jobs. To take a closer look at who we are in the police force, and how we operate. This criminal not only doesn't have faith in us and what we do, but I would say that they feel that we are outright untrustworthy. That the criminal justice system as a whole is untrustworthy.” 

“So we're dealing with a radical activist?” Kunizuka asks. 

“A university student who just took a class in politics?” Kagari scoffs, even though he's young enough to be in university himself. 

“I don't think someone who took a class in politics would be angry enough to murder people,” Kunizuka says. “Whoever this person is, they're an outcast of society. And they've cultivated these believes over a long period of time.” 

“But they really like to read,” Kagari points out. 

“He wrote that he'll meet us in the place where there's no darkness,” Kougami says. “He wants the truth to come out. So he'll meet us when that happens. When the truth comes out.” 

“We can't wait that long,” Kunizuka points out. 

“No,” Kougami agrees. “But maybe there's more to it than that. The place where there's no darkness. Maybe it's a hint.” 

“Referring to?” Kunizuka asks. 

Akane's pager buzzes and she stands up, apologetic. “I have a meeting. But let me know what you find.” And then she's gone. 

Kougami frowns. The only people Akane could be meeting with are another division. Or the Chief. Perhaps she's become Ginoza's proxy, simply because the Chief has never liked Kougami, and aside from him and Ginoza, Akane is the only other detective in their division. 

“Maybe it's a library?” Kagari suggests. 

“You'd think someone would notice kidnappings in a library,” Kougami points out. 

“Maybe it's a secret room in the library,” Kagari says. 

“The police have been referred to as the light of the city in dark times,” Sugo, quietly taking notes until now, suggests. 

“Are you sure that's not the fire department?” Kunizuka mutters. 

Kagari snaps his fingers. “All those boring reports we have to file.” 

“Huh?” 

“I'm gonna take a look,” Kagari say, standing up. “You know the file library we have in the basement, right? Maybe it's something to do with that. All of the police cases, solved and unsolved, they're in there. Maybe that has something to do with it.” 

“You're going to read all of the cases that have ever been filed?” Kunizuka asks. Kagari's face falls. 

“Well...” 

“It's locked, anyway,” Kougami points out. 

“Shion has the key,” Kagari says. 

“How did you find--” 

“I'll just look for file discrepancies,” Kagari adds. “I'm not gonna read everything. That would be boring. Just see if there's anything hidden or that doesn't make sense. Or that seems similar. Besides, Shion and Hinakawa created a basic computer search system that might help.” 

“Fine,” Kougami says. “You go search the files. Kunizuka, Sugo, figure out if there's any places in the city that the quote could refer to. I'll help you with that, as well as revisit past murders connected to the case to make sure we haven't missed anything.” 

Kagari flounces out of the room, and Kougami gathers his papers and heads back to his desk. He hates this. He wants to be searching out in the streets, to feel like he's actually taking action. But he knows it would be pointless. The city is huge, and without the office work, he would never be able to find anything. 

Akane's desk is empty. She doesn't return for two hours, and when she does, she's very quiet. 

Kagari doesn't return even when their shift ends. 

Kougami goes through file after file and Akane helps him and they can't find anything that will lead them to Ginoza. And it's frustrating, because Kougami promised himself that he wouldn't fail another team member after Sasayama's death. 

But it's likely that he already has. 

*

The body on the floor can barely be called that. 

They've seen dead bodies before, but nothing quite this gruesome. The walls are sprayed in blood like some terrifying modern art piece. The metallic smell practically coats the air, made worse by the summer humidity. 

But the body. The throat is slashed. The head is scalped. The intestines are spread across the floor. The eyes have been gouged out and are held in the cupped hands of the victim. White ribs rise sharply from broken skin. 

Kougami turns to Ginoza, whose eyes are wide, taking in the scene. He looks too pale. 

“These kind of crimes occur all the time,” Sasayama, more experienced than both of them, says as he strides over to the body, mindful not to step on any of the organs. “Yakuza. Oh.” He looks up at both of the new officers. “This is your first one, isn't it?” 

“Wh-why?” Ginoza manages. 

Sasayama scoffs. “Because you don't leave the yakuza and expect to live. They'll find you, and they'll make your death as unpleasant as possible.” 

Kougami looks down at the body. Unpleasant is a bit of an understatement. “What do we do?” 

“Nothing.” 

“What?” Ginoza's voice is sharp, cutting through the thick air. 

“You're new,” Sasayama says, placing his hands in his pockets. “So you don't know, but when it comes to gang activity like this, there's not much we can do.” 

Later, Ginoza is furious. He sits on Kougami's couch, glaring at a spot on the wall while Kougami paces. Because Kougami is also furious. 

“So what?” Kougami snaps. “We just send everything to forensics and case closed? We're just supposed to let the yakuza have free run of the city? What kind of police does that make us?” 

“Why?” Ginoza asks. 

“Why what?” 

“Why are the yakuza off-limits?” Ginoza asks. “Is it because it's too dangerous to take them on? Is it--” 

“It doesn't matter why,” Kougami cuts him off. “We're the police. We keep the city safe. Nothing should be off limits. You saw what they did to that guy. They can't just get away with it.” 

“The why is important,” Ginoza murmurs. 

Kougami ignores him. “We can't just sit back because it's too dangerous. We know the risks when we sign up for this job.” 

“But we don't know all the factors,” Ginoza says. He looks up at Kougami. “You can't just risk your life needlessly trying to bring criminals to justice.” 

Kougami narrows his eyes. “What are you saying? That they're right?” 

“I'm saying that the why is important,” Ginoza says. “The Chief must know something that we don't. And I wish we did know, because I don't like being told that we can't do anything while there's a destroyed body right in front of us. But what would we accomplish if we went in trying to arrest yakuza members and ended up like that?” 

“You agree with him,” Kougami says. 

“No.” Ginoza closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I'm trying to understand.” 

“There is nothing to understand,” Kougami snaps. “It's cowardice. That's all.” 

*

The next day, Hinakawa appears at Kougami's desk, looking shaken. He wrings his hands nervously and blurts out, “Kagari never came out of the basement.” 

“What?” 

“Sh-shion and I let him in,” Hinakawa says. “Shion is talking to the Chief now, but w-we think we have a b-breach in security because he n-never came out. And w-we were monitoring it and w-we went searching for him b-but we only f-found his gun. N-no other f-fingerprints on it.” 

Kougami is standing by the time Hinakawa finishes talking, and he can see Akane standing as well. 

“The Chief doesn't know what happened?” 

“The c-camera feeds are wrong,” Hinakawa says. “The recordings are all from d-days before. They d-don't even show K-kagari in there but I-I know he was there, I l-let him in!” 

“It's okay,” Akane says, coming over and touching him reassuringly on the shoulder. Hinakawa relaxes, slightly. “We'll find out what happened. It's not your fault.” 

“When does Shion get out of her meeting?” Kougami asks. 

“Right now,” says a voice from behind him, and they all turn to see Shion striding into the office, her normally playful features grim. 

“What happened?” Kougami demands. 

“The Chief doesn't know,” Shion says, “but she's assuming that Kagari found something and in his excitement went investigating without the knowledge of the team, and ran into trouble. She says she thinks he's been irresponsible.”

“You don't sound convinced,” Kunizuka says from her desk. 

“Well, we all know that Kagari isn't the poster child for responsibility,” Shion says, “but he's not an idiot. He would've asked someone to go with him if he wanted to investigate something in the field. And as I'm sure Hinakawa already mentioned, neither of us received any indication that he left the basement. In fact, it's like he was never there.” 

“But we let him in,” Hinakawa says. 

Kougami glances at Akane, but she's frowning, not looking at him. He turns back to Shion. “There was no message left in the basement?” 

“No,” Shion says. “And we checked. Thoroughly. The only thing we found was Kagari's gun. Further proof that he was there, even if the cameras say otherwise.” 

“Then this criminal may be more of a threat than we thought,” Kougami says. 

“You think it's an inside job?” Sugo asks. 

“I don't know.” Kougami massages his temples, trying to jump-start his thoughts. “You'd think they would've made a move like this before now, if they worked here. They wouldn't have to try so hard to catch our attention. And there's no body. No message. It seems disconnected from the other crimes. Like it's not even the same person.” 

“It has to be related,” Kunizuka says. “There's no other reason that Kagari would have disappeared. Right?”

No one has an answer. 

*

“I'm not sure the force's newest detective should be drinking in a dive bar.” 

Ginoza glares at his empty glass. “Go away, Kougami.” 

“Nope.” Kougami slides into the seat next to Ginoza and loops an arm around Ginoza's shoulders. “What's wrong?” 

“Nothing is wrong,” Ginoza says, pushing his glass away. 

“Really?” No answer. “You're a horrible liar, Gino.” 

“I thought it would be different,” Ginoza mutters. “I thought I could do more. But I feel like I can't do anything at all.” 

“Is this something I'll learn when I get promoted?” 

“I don't know. Maybe you know something I don't. You've always done things differently.” 

Kougami takes in Ginoza's slumped shoulders and sighs. “Let's go home.” With some effort, he pulls Ginoza away from the bar and outside. 

Ginoza leans against Kougami as they walk down the street towards his apartment. When they reach the building, Ginoza says, “You don't live with me.” 

“I came all the way here and you're not gonna let me in? How rude, Gino.” 

Ginoza rolls his eyes and opens the door, allowing Kougami to follow him into the building and up to his apartment. 

Ginoza's apartment is small and barren. The only personal touches are the small plants perched on the windowsills and a few framed photographs here and there of Ginoza's old dogs, and one of himself and his father from when he was younger. 

“Gino?” Kougami says. “You're okay, right?” 

“Of course.” A strained smile. “Kougami, we both have to be in early tomorrow.” 

“I found you in a dive bar, alone, Gino,” Kougami says. “Don't you think--” 

“It's just a bad night,” Ginoza says. “I have to get some sleep, and you should, too.” 

“Okay.” 

Kougami leaves. The next morning, Ginoza looks like he hasn't slept, but Kougami doesn't say anything about it. 

In truth, there's a part of him that doesn't want to think that this job is eating away at Ginoza. He wants to believe that it's just hard, adjusting to being a detective, and that it'll get better. That's what it must be. 

*

That night, no one goes home. Kougami takes a moment to himself in the break room. His thoughts don't make sense anymore. Ginoza kidnapped, Kagari missing. Both of them probably dead. 

In a fury, he stands up, spins around, and punches the wall. The crunch of bone against plaster is satisfying, the sting cutting through the jumble of thoughts in his head like a knife, causing them to bleed away. When he pulls his fist back, there's a dent in the wall, a network of cracks marring the white plaster. 

He'll deal with that later. 

He makes his way back to his desk. Akane has been oddly subdued all day, and she still is as she pours over file after file. He sits down and opens yet another folder showing photographs from the autopsies of murder victims. All disfigured. They don't look human anymore. 

And then the phone rings. 

Kougami picks up, expecting it to be one of the detectives from another division, or the Chief. Instead, the person on the other end doesn't speak. 

“Hello?” he prompts. 

“You're running out of time.” 

Kougami grips the phone tighter. The voice is unfamiliar, soft, that of a man. But he knows who the voice belongs to. 

“Who are you? Do you have Kagari? Ginoza?” 

A soft laugh. “You are all so determined not to give me what I want, even though it would be beneficial to you. I don't want to see this city burned. I want to see this country made anew.” 

“Where are you?” Kougami growls. He knows that by now everyone in the office is staring at him. 

“We can make even the darkest places bright as day,” the man on the other end says. “I am not your enemy.” 

“You killed my colleague,” Kougami snaps. “What do you want?” 

“For people to be able to judge for themselves,” the man says. “To know the truth, and to react to it as they will.” 

Shion bursts into the room, then stops at seeing that Kougami is on the phone, and that everyone else is staring at him. 

“You will find me,” the man says, “but will that satisfy you?” And then he hangs up. 

For a moment, no one speaks. 

Then Shion says, “I thought something looked strange when that call came in. I traced it. To underneath the Shinjuku train station.” 

Kougami jumps out of his seat, grabs his coat. Akane is already rushing past Shion out the door. 

*

“It's ridiculous,” Ginoza says, “that I can't have a dog. There's a whole unit dedicated to dogs. I think a dog would be good for our unit.” 

Ginoza is drunk. Kougami is also drunk. He likes the way Ginoza's cheeks are flushed and it's been so long since he's done anything outside of work. And Ginoza goes on, “They could help us with drugs...and stuff. Drugs. Dogs. And I'd get to take one home. The bond between an officer and his dog--” 

Kougami cuts him off, pressing his lips to Ginoza's lips and taking the rest of Ginoza's sentence with him. 

He enjoys the way Ginoza's eyes widen behind his glasses, the sharp intake of breath as he pulls away, how his lips part as if he's going to say something, and the noise he makes when he can't. 

“It's been a while since I've been with someone,” Kougami says. 

“You weren't listening to me,” Ginoza says. “About the dogs. You don't care about the dogs, do you?” 

“Relax, Gino,” Kougami says, pulling him closer. He's glad they're in his apartment and not in a bar. He knows Ginoza would be much less receptive in a bar. “You need to relax.” 

“What are you doing?” Ginoza asks. Kougami is close. Ginoza's eyes keep flickering between Kougami's eyes and his lips and his hands resting on Ginoza's shoulders. “How do you even know that I like...men?” 

“Detective's intuition,” Kougami murmurs. 

“We're colleagues.” 

“Don't you get lonely?” 

Ginoza's eyes widen. And then he kisses Kougami, threads his fingers through Kougami's hair, like he's been looking for something to drown himself in and Kougami is it. 

“What are we?” Kougami asks later, when they're lying in bed, tucked into each other. Fully clothed, because Ginoza has his limits and that's fine, Kougami can live without sex but he can't live forever without someone next to him. 

“I don't know,” Ginoza says. 

They never do figure it out. They never get the time. 

* 

There's a good chance that the man on the phone will have run by the time they get there, but judging by his parting words, there's a greater chance that they will find him. 

“You can't kill him,” Akane says on the ride over. Kougami doesn't look at her as he swerves their car through traffic. “We have to bring him in for questioning.” 

“Do we?” Kougami asks. 

“The Chief ordered us to,” Akane says. 

“He killed Sasayama,” Kougami says. “He probably killed Kagari. He might have killed Gino. Gino is our friend.” 

“This is our job,” Akane points out. Something about the way she says it catches Kougami by surprise. Her conviction. 

“Our job is to protect people from criminals,” Kougami says. “This man is a killer. It would be right to kill him.” 

“You're letting your emotions get in the way,” Akane says. “The Chief thinks he has valuable information that could lead to others like him, radicals who would murder as well. Murders we can prevent, if we bring him in.” 

“Do you think he knows something?” Kougami asks. Akane remains silent. 

They don't talk for the rest of the ride, not until they pull up to the train station and run inside, Sugo and Kunizuka flanking them from behind. They've already called ahead to make sure that they can access the tunnels. There are several that are unused from back when the station was first built, and it's these that they head for. 

There's no switch to turn the lights on. No way to tell what is in the darkness beyond. As they head underground, Kougami feels train tracks under his feet. He keeps one hand against the cool wall of the tunnel, curved in the perfect shape to accommodate the trains that run through the heart of the city. In his other hand, he holds a gun. 

He can hear Akane walking behind him. She holds a flashlight that barely penetrates the darkness. He can hear her breathing, slightly off-kilter. Nervousness, at what she'll find. 

A yell echoes through the tunnel. Kougami spins around, and at the same time, blinding light fills the space and for a moment he can't see. When he vision clears, he finds himself facing Kunizuka. Behind her, a brown-haired man holds a knife to her neck. 

“Guns down,” he says. 

He, Akane, and Sugo place their guns on the floor. Kunizuka's has already been kicked a few feet away. 

“Now we can talk,” a new voice, a familiar voice, says from behind them. 

Kougami turns back around. 

The first thing he notices is Ginoza. Even though the criminal is standing right next to him, Kougami's eyes are drawn to Ginoza kneeling on the floor, head bowed underneath the weight of a gun pressed into his hair, face hidden, shirt stained red with blood and hands in his lap, one clenched, the other digging into the torn fabric of his pants. 

Alive. 

Then his eyes travel up, past the pale hand holding the gun, past an arm glad in crisp, white fabric, to the face of the man who destroyed his team. 

“I am Makishima Shogo,” the man says. 

Makishima does not look like a murderer. He's well-dressed, with a handsome face and white hair that reaches past his shoulders. His clothes are unstained. A small smile plays across his lips, and were it not for the gun in his hands, Kougami would not expect him to be the man who's been causing his division so much stress. 

Kougami hates him. 

“Let him go,” he growls. 

Makishima glances down, then back up at Kougami, and his expression becomes hard. “I don't think I will. Not until we've talked.” 

“What do you want?” Kougami asks. His hands are itching for his gun. 

“I want to expose your police force for the corrupted organization that it is,” Makishima says. “Crime in this city has fallen drastically in the past ten years, and no one questions the success of the police. If only they knew how criminal the police themselves are, and how unqualified they are to be judging the fates of others. Top criminals have disappeared, along with their subordinates, and justice is never served to them. People are criminalized who shouldn't be. Deals have been made with questionable organizations, money has changed hands so that the police will turn a blind eye. Money influences who gets arrested and who walks free.” He nudges the hand holding the gun to Ginoza's head. “I tried to get him to tell me what he knows about the Chief, where I can find her outside of the protections of the police headquarters. Given his family history, I thought he would be willing to tell me. But in the past few days, he hasn't spoken a word.” 

“You go on and on about the corruption of the police and yet here you are, holding a gun to someone's head in the hopes that you'll get what you want,” Kougami says. “You're judging him even though you know he's not involved with these decisions.” 

“He knows the personal details of the woman who is pulling the strings of this city,” Makishima says. “Withholding that information is allowing the corruption to continue. That makes him part of it, does it not?” 

“In your view,” Akane speaks up. “Which is subjective.” 

“Everything is subjective,” Makishima points out. “I want everyone to know the truth. What is so wrong about that?”

“You murdered people who didn't deserve it,” Akane says. “You're as bad as the people you claim are corrupt.” 

“Perhaps they did deserve it,” Makishima says. He cocks the gun. “I had hoped that you would understand.” 

“Don't do this,” Akane says. 

“Tell me where the Chief lives,” Makishima says. 

“Shall I begin?” the man holding Kunizuka asks. 

“Not yet, Choe,” Makishima says. He smiles, suddenly, at Kougami. “Do you want your colleague's suffering to have been for nothing? Perhaps it's because you've never heard him scream. I'm afraid he might have lost his voice, but the sound of his pain is heart-wrenching.” 

It takes all of Kougami's self-control not to rush Makishima then and there. He feels a hand on his shoulder—Akane, holding him back. 

Ginoza, on the floor, remains silent. 

“Words don't quite suffice,” Makishima says. “The knife, Choe.” 

Choe reluctantly removes the knife from where it rests against Kunizuka's skin and tosses it in the air. The knife makes a perfect arc and Makishima catches it in one hand. He kneels down in front of Ginoza, who doesn't move. 

“Now,” Makishima murmurs, dropping his hand with the gun aside so that he can raise the hand holding the knife to Ginoza's neck. “Scream for me.” 

Kougami bursts forward, tearing away from Akane's grip. At the same time, Makishima drags the knife along Ginoza's throat. Ginoza chokes, but before Makishima can finish, Kougami slams into him, throwing them both on the floor. 

The knife skids away from them. A gunshot, and Makishima tries to reach for his own gun, but Kougami grabs him and pulls him back. Makishima lands a hit on Kougami's stomach, doubling him over, and makes for the gun again. 

But Kougami is up and grabbing him before his hands close around the weapon. They wrestle for control, and Makishima is good, Makishima knows how to fight, and they're both desperate, both clawing at each other to gain the upper hand. Kougami catches sight of Makishima's face. His teeth are bared, his eyes alight with something animalistic and feral. 

Kougami's hand closes around the gun, and he scrambles to his feet and aims at Makishima, kneeling on the floor. 

Makishima grins up at him. “You're not a killer,” he says. 

“Kougami!” Akane cries, and Kougami can hear rapid footsteps running towards him. “Please--” 

“You're wrong,” Kougami says, and pulls the trigger. 

A spray of blood, and Makishima goes down, white hair dyed red. He slumps onto the floor, and Akane stops running, and for a moment there's only silence. 

Then Kougami drops the gun, which clatters when it hits the ground, and he tears his gaze away from Makishima's body, looks past Akane to the figure slumped over behind her. Ginoza. 

He feels like he's wading through sand, not fast enough, and he kneels before Ginoza, whose hands are at his throat, trying to prevent the blood from pouring out of his wound, but he's failing, because his hands are covered in blood, blood is dripping onto the floor with the steady pitter-patter of rain drops on a window during a storm, or maybe that's just what it feels like because it's the only sound Kougami can hear, that and Ginoza's choking breaths. Everything is red. Kougami's knees are soaked in it, he can smell it, stronger than gunpowder, stronger than the wet damp smell of the unused tunnel. 

“You won't die because of him,” Kougami says, and he wraps an arm around Ginoza and drags him up, and Ginoza falls against him, and it doesn't matter because Kougami would drag him across the world if he had to. But he only has to get him out of the tunnel. 

And the entire time, he doesn't see Ginoza's face. Just the red of his blood as it drips past his fingers to land on the floor. 

*

“Do you want to come over tonight?” 

“I've taken a shift for Sasayama.” 

It becomes more and more common that Ginoza stays later and later in the office. And it's fine, Kougami thinks. It's fine even though Ginoza should rest and why doesn't he go home, what's keeping him here? It's fine. 

*

“Go away.” 

“Ginoza, look at me.” 

“I won't scream for you!” 

“Ginoza--” 

Kougami closes his eyes as he stands outside of Ginoza's hospital room, listening to him fight with the nurses. It's the second time in three days that he's woken up not knowing where he is, thinking that he's still in that tunnel. His injuries have been stitched together, blood replenished, but he's still falling apart. 

When the nurses come out, Kougami slips in. Ginoza stares at him through glassy eyes, the tranquilizer already doing its work. Ginoza is always sharp when he looks at anything, and to see him struggling to focus on Kougami is unnatural. 

“I broke the rules, Gino,” Kougami tells him, sitting next to his bed. Ginoza turns his head towards him. There's a bandage around his throat, hiding the stitches beneath it. But they will scar. “I've been given a leave of absence for a few months.” 

Ginoza's brows draw together and he tries to say something. Then fails. Finally he manages to whisper, “Why?” 

“Because you almost died,” Kougami says, and it's the truth. If Makishima hadn't made it personal, Kougami probably wouldn't have killed him. “It's okay. Akane is still there. And she's good. We both know how good she is. She gives me hope for the future of the police.” 

Ginoza closes his eyes. “Kougami,” he says. 

“What?” 

“I...” He takes a deep breath. “I'm tired.” 

Kougami nods. He would be tired, too. “Then sleep. I'll be here.” 

*

It doesn't bother Kougami that he never sees Ginoza, not after Sasayama dies. 

Ginoza appears at his desk one night, his arms crossed over his chest like he's cold. “Kou,” he says. 

“Mmm?” Kougami doesn't look up from his files. The files from the murders related to Sasayama's death. He can't let this go unsolved. 

“You should take a break,” Ginoza says. “We can go back to my apartment.” 

“Can't.” 

A sharp intake of breath. “Kougami--” 

“Sasayama is dead,” Kougami snaps, finally looking up, “and no one is doing a damn thing.” 

“Except for you,” Ginoza says. He looks incredibly tired. 

“Then why,” Kougami says through gritted teeth, “don't you help?” 

Ginoza just turns and walks away. 

The next day they argue, and he goes missing. 

*

When Ginoza is released from the hospital, he doesn't go home. 

Kougami decides to take Ginoza to his apartment, to stay with him for a few days. Ginoza is quiet, and Kougami doesn't know what to say to him. They've talked about the case. Or rather, Kougami talked about the case. Kougami told him about Kagari's disappearance. The only thing Ginoza said was that Makishima hadn't kidnapped Kagari, which Kougami finds strange. 

Ginoza doesn't talk when Kougami cooks dinner. Ginoza doesn't eat when they sit down. The bandage around his neck is gone, but there's a jagged scar that Kougami has seen once, before Ginoza covered it with a scarf that he now seems to wear everywhere. A scarf and a sweater that drowns him. Even though it isn't cold, Ginoza gives off the impression of someone who is freezing. 

Kougami doesn't ask what Makishima did to him. He can guess, based on the injuries. All he wants is to know that Ginoza will recover. 

Ginoza falls asleep on the couch and Kougami is reluctant to return to his bedroom. But he does. 

He wakes up to the sound of sobbing. 

At first, Kougami thinks it's come from a dream. But then he realizes that he's awake, and he scrambles out of bed and into the living room to find Ginoza curled into himself on the couch, clutching a pillow to his chest with one hand, his other hand covering his mouth. 

“Gino,” Kougami murmurs, kneeling in front of him and rubbing small circles into Ginoza's back. 

Ginoza shakes his head. “I can't do it. I can't do this.” 

“Do what?” 

Ginoza's breath hitches. “He was right. And I-I called him a fool. But h-he was right and I--” 

“Calm down,” Kougami says, because it sounds like Ginoza is choking on his words. “Who was right?” 

“There's nothing good about being a detective,” Ginoza says, and then he laughs, high-pitched and hysteric. “Nothing good.” 

More laughter punctuated by sobs, and Kougami can only stare at him. His hand stills on Ginoza's back and he can feel the other man shaking, hard. 

Ginoza turns his head away, hiding his face. “I'm not good enough,” he says. “I was never good enough. I don't know anything. I'm an idiot. I'm not good enough. I'm not--” 

“Gino.” 

Ginoza shakes his head and buries his face in the pillow as if he's trying to smother himself. 

Kougami feels lost, and with Ginoza, he never feels lost. He wants to do something. He wants to make sure that Ginoza doesn't fall apart on his living room sofa. 

“I'm not leaving,” Kougami says, and he moves onto the couch, wrapping his arms around Ginoza, holding him close. Ginoza relaxes into him almost too quickly. 

“I'm sorry,” Ginoza says. 

“For what?” Kougami asks. 

Ginoza doesn't answer. 

*

The next morning Kougami wakes up alone. He sits up, panicking, because how did Ginoza slip away? Where did he go? He's about to run out the door when he catches sight of a tape recorder on the kitchen counter. He grabs it, picks it up, and presses play. 

“There's nothing you can do from within the system. It's corrupt. This city is corrupt. That's what my father told me. And then he died. I didn't believe him.” Ginoza's voice sounds quiet, detached. Kougami clutches the recorder to his chest. “Makishima was right.” A soft laugh. “It's better if you know less, sometimes. I'm weak, Kou. I can't go back. I can't stay still. I feel like my skin is too tight, like I need to run. So I'm leaving. If I stay, I'll fall apart.” 

“No,” Kougami says. 

“Maybe I'll come back. Maybe I won't.” Ginoza laughs again, breathless. “I don't know what I'm doing, Kougami. You always know what you're doing. That's why you made a better detective than I did. If I knew, then maybe I'd stay. I'd have a plan. I'd be brave. I—goodbye, Kougami.” And then it stops. 

Kougami can't move. He wants to shout, but no one will hear him. It's too late. 

He'd thought he'd gotten Ginoza back, but he hadn't at all. He'd thought Makishima was the problem. 

But the city had eaten Ginoza alive. And Kougami had fought for him and lost. 

*

Kougami goes back, because Akane asks him to. 

“What are you going to do out there?” she says. “The city is corrupt. The police force is corrupt. But that doesn't mean that it can't change. Our division isn't corrupt. The Chief may be pulling the strings, but we have power, too. We keep her safe. We know this city better than most. If you want things to change, this is where you can change things.” 

She is full of conviction, even after everything, and it rubs off on him. 

She accepts him back, forgives him for killing Makishima. She tells him that she was trying to protect him from the Chief, but that she's been able to negotiate for his job anyway. That the Chief didn't want to show her hand, but that Makishima was on to something and she needed to know how far his knowledge went, and who else knew. 

“That's what I think, anyway,” Akane says. 

Her optimism counteracts the grit and dirt of the city that gets under his skin and threatens to cloud his mind and make him lose hope. He might not be able to trust the Chief and most of the police force, but he trusts his division. 

And then, three months after his return, he finds an unmarked envelop on his desk. 

He opens it, and several sheets of paper and photographs fall out. A quick glance at the papers tells him that they contain information about the yakuza in the city. He picks up a photograph of the Chief pictured with a man in a suit that he doesn't recognize. He quickly places the photograph back in the envelope, and sees a note amongst the papers. 

In neat handwriting it reads, “Please forgive my foolishness, Kou.” 

You were never foolish, Kougami thinks. 

He picks up the papers and heads to Akane's desk. Instead of the information, he hands her the note. 

“He came back.”


End file.
